


and i'd be lying if i told you i'm fine

by kuroshironimu



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Genji is emo, Hurt/Comfort, Jesse tries to be an understanding bf, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:58:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8245096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroshironimu/pseuds/kuroshironimu
Summary: Sometimes, when his cybernetic voice seemed too much to bear and his body felt like it wasn’t his own (it never was), Genji tried to seek reassurance.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't really written anything publicly in ages so this is the kick i need to get my gears back in action. bless overwatch for giving me muse
> 
> title from EDEN's drowning

Jesse McCree thought he wasn’t really the first choice for someone to seek comfort with. Those kind of stuffs were usually reserved for Angela, their ever-loving medic, or Ana. Hell, even Commander Reyes would be a better listener beneath his hardy exterior. Still, when the clock barely struck midnight and Jesse heard soft knocks on his door, he couldn’t say he was a least bit surprised. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, some of these days. Instead, Jesse put down his data pad and unlocked the door, where a teenage cyborg waited outside his room, faint green glow from his visor. His synthetic body was hidden beneath a black jumper, expression hidden beneath the mask—but Jesse knew enough to notice the slight slump on his shoulders, the way Genji brought himself in front of him, rigid and self-conscious.

 

“Darlin’, what keeps ya awake this late?” he drawled, a lazy grin on his face. They both knew what Genji came for, but it didn’t stop Jesse to speak as if there’s nothing to worry about (and sometimes, there never was). “Can’t sleep without my lullaby?” It usually kept the younger male feel calmer when Jesse didn’t treat him like a broken porcelain doll, something Genji grateful at and how Jesse’s room was the only thing he considered closest to sanctuary. Not even his own body felt like one.

 

Genji chuckled, the cybernetic voice still rang foreign in his ears and he paused. “May I come in?” his voice was soft, trying for a whisper but his voice ( _wrong, so wrong_ ) still echoed clearly in his ears. Genji visibly flinched, fingers already itching to rip his throat apart and took out whatever thing that made his voice so different, so _inhumane_.

 

Jesse noticed the frustration, and he offered no more questions as he gently ushered Genji in. The green glow illuminated his dim room, and Jesse would compliment him and kiss those mask silly. But tonight was not the nights where they would exchange whispers beneath the sheet, it wasn’t the night when Genji felt okay enough to let Jesse took off his visor. It was the night when Jesse pulled Genji close to his chest, fingers running through the cold metal and traced formless words on the surface. He let Genji heard his beating heart, the steady rise of his chest. Jesse pressed his lips on Genji’s temple and let it stay there, arms encircling around the smaller figure.

 

It was no secret that Genji loathed his new body, both grateful for and despise the new form he took. He never failed to show gratitude to Angela, complement her work and how he could function normally day by day, never missing to make a smile appear on the doctor’s face each time. He also never failed to show his bitterness, masking his scarred face beneath the visor and rejecting every companions to settle by himself, drowning himself in anger. Genji would never dare to hurt himself for it would also hurt Angela, but more often than not Jesse saw how Genji threw himself into the battefield recklessly, damaging most of his circuits after it ended.

 

When those nights came, Genji seeked comfort in Jesse’s arms. He gave in to his vulnerability and curled on Jesse’s chest. He tried to forget that he was not Shimada Genji, but just Genji—a Blackwatch agent, an easily dispossable asset. Genji focused on Jesse’s warmth, pretended that he could offer the same thing (it would never be). Jesse’s fingers on his helmet, his back, Jesse’s lips near his visor. Genji was too scared to open his mask when these thoughts haunt him, didn’t want Jesse to touch his marred face and burnt skin. He bit his lips, burying his face more onto Jesse’s chest and trying to keep his tears at bay.

 

This body never felt like his own, no matter how much he tried.

 

“Ssh, darlin’,” Jesse’s voice brought him back to the ground, and Genji clung to his shirt just a bit tighter. He let Jesse’s voice washed through him, forced himself to calm his nerves. The vents in his shoulders whirring, hot steams wafting throughout the room. It resulted in more panic, Genji scrambled over words for apology, stumbling between Japanese and English. He was slowly slipping out of control and nothing scared him more—then again, when was the last time Genji felt he had control over his own being?

 

Jesse grounded him with strong, calloused fingers. He murmured things Genji couldn’t quite catch, holding him tight until the tremor died down. It took some time until Genji quiet down, Jesse’s soft whisper told him to breath just like he did. _Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale._ Jesse smiled down at him, pressing soft kisses on Genji’s mask before he settled the younger male again on his chest, humming some melody under his breath.

 

“Try’na get some sleep, kitten,” Jesse murmured, fingers ghosting over Genji’s metallic skin. Genji could hear the small smile on his face without needing to see it. “Gonna wake ya up when the sun rises.”

 

It was difficult for him to sleep, but Genji tried to close his eyes and listened to Jesse’s soft breathing, the melody he whispered in the death of the night, only for Genji’s ears to listen. Jesse never forced him to talk, knew too well that Genji had yet to accept what his form had become. He only held out his arms, pulling Genji into a warm embrace. Sometimes he spoke and Genji gratefully took the distraction. Sometimes they laid in silence while Jesse hummed an old-country song under his breath, lulling Genji to sleep. There were also some times when it ended in chaos—when Jesse could only watched, hopelessly, as Genji curled on his bed, wheezing and gasping, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

 

“Do you not mind me with this body?”

 

That was the question he kept asking, every night. Jesse laughed, just like every other night, as his arms tighten around Genji.

 

“Already perfect, kitten, never gonna ask for more.”

 

Most of the times, that was the reassurance Genji needed.

**Author's Note:**

> cowborg is my weakness


End file.
